


Upside Down and All Around

by Mistress_Kalamity



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Autism, Blood, BoyxBoy, Drugs, Epilepsy, F/M, First Time, Love, M/M, Romance, Seizures, child!Tom teen!Bill, tokio hotel doesn't exist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-16 19:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14817117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistress_Kalamity/pseuds/Mistress_Kalamity
Summary: Georg has been best friends with Bill his whole life. They grew up in Harlem together. Somedays when it got real hot during the summer, they'd play in the opened hydrants.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this for a while and don't worry the next Grounded is on its way. Hope y'all enjoy this. I am writing this from my experiences with both disorders and research I have done.

Georg has been best friends with Bill his whole life. They grew up in Harlem together. Somedays when it got real hot during the summer, they'd play in the opened hydrants. Billie became obsessed with the african american vibe that surrounded him. It made his slightly older brunette friend chuckle when he saw Bill sporting dashikis. 

It also amazed him that many of the ethnic students at their public school, Dreamyard, enjoyed his company. Usually he's the ridiculed white boy but his strange way of dress and kind nature made him tons of friends. Ms. Salas, the art teacher, loved having him in class, as did Ms. Burns, his english teacher. 

Every morning, Bill would wake up feeling excited to leave for school. Getting to see all his friends daily made him emote positivity. Made him feel better. As long as Georg had known the younger boy, he spoke a lot about taking care of his little brother. Tom fell pretty far on the autism spectrum and was basically non verbal. He only spoke in small, blurted statements and had frequent behavioral meltdowns. Normally he was a happy child, playing usually with his soft wooden blocks. 

Simone’s brother had gotten Tom the gift when he first got diagnosed. Georg isn't surprised to see Bill sitting on the couch with Tom on his lap, chewing a red tube. Stimulation helped him relax, seeing as the boy could hurt himself severely during his over stimulus episodes. It gave Tom's mind something to focus on. The six year old constantly craved his big brother's attention, feeling safer when Billie was there. 

The raven haired teen looks down at Tom's drawings, trying to make sense of the shapes he drew. Something that Georg noticed, Tom held onto one of Bill's hands while he colored. Simone smiles down at her two boys, disappearing into the kitchen. “Yo, what's up, B?” 

“Hey Geo, why didn't you tell me you were pullin’ up?” Bill smiles, adjusting his shoulder. The green eyed male notices he pats his older brother's hand, the latter leaving it on his little brother's knee. “Sorry, he's having a rough day. I haven't been able to put him down.”

“It's fine. I was wondering if you wanted to hit up bay plaza. The whole crew was going,” Georg offers. 

“I'd have to bring Tommy,” Bill sighs. “He's been clinging to me all day. Don't know what's going on with him.” 

“You don't think that would be too many people? If he's feeling...I don’t know, fussy, I don't want to add a busy mall to that equation,” the brunette shrugs, plopping beside him on the couch. Tom jumps, dropping his crayon and climbing further into Bill's lap. 

“Shhh, it's okay. It's just Georg. See? Georg,” Billy cooes, gently massaging his arm. Tom has way too many triggers. The dirty blonde looks back at his older brother's friend and stares at him in complete fear. Billy had quite the amount of friends. It was hard to keep track of them all. 

Recognition flashes in his eyes when he spots his sneakers. Tom hates shoes, he usually makes people take them off by messing with their feet until they remove the offending foot covering. Tom, however, loves Georg's green converse. That's how he knew the older male was around. “GL,” Tom announces. 

“Yeah, GL. You like GL’s green shoes, remember?” Tom nods and runs his hands on the soft fabric of the shoe. Certain visual cues were good for Tom's memory. Names were hard for him, so he remembered based on outstanding traits. Georg always wore his green converse to Bill's apartment. Gustav always had candy. Bill was really pretty. Everyone had a nickname. Georg: GL. Gustav: Pooh Bear. Bill: PB. Mommy was mama, and daddy: monster. He built a system that worked for him. 

The doctors all told them that the only way to connect with Tom would be to let him teach you how he collects thoughts. The six year old has a system. The one thing his parents didn't understand, how he communicated. Bill basically spoke his brother's language, hence why the two were closer. He could understand the massive barrage of incoherent sentences during massive meltdowns. The red haired mother felt blessed that she had Billy. Tom's survival did depend a bit on his older brother. Billy got him when no one else did. 

“GL stay?”

“Well GL wants to go hang out with PB, is that okay?” Bill pries, trying to ease Tom into the idea of him leaving. 

“No. PB stay here with me. PB don't go when he's not feeling well’” Tom whines, tugging on Bill's tiny tee shirt. Georg squints his eyes and glares at Bill for a moment. 

“What does he mean?” The raven haired teen only chuckles and rubs the back of his head. 

“Nothing. Tom's been saying that for weeks now. Mom doesn't get it either.”

“Maybe he senses something? How have you been feeling?” 

“Fine. Just a little, uh, sleepy, I guess,” Bill admits. “Tommy had a night terror last night. He was screaming for at least two hours.”

“Maybe another time then?” Georg offers. “It's really no problem.” Bill sighs and leans his head back on the sofa. He knew he was tired and he still had to keep his brother occupied while his mom made dinner. His father doing overtime at the office. Getting an extra hour of sleep after dinner would be ideal. 

“I'm gonna be free on Saturday until 4,” Bill smiles. “Tommy has a group he goes to on weekends.”

“Sweet. We can pick up our s-e-c-r-e-t-s-a-n-t-a gifts,” Georg chuckles. “And something extra special.”

“You're right,” Bill nods. “See you Saturday, then?”

“Saturday,” Georg chirps, dabbing Bill on his way out. Tom watches him walk out, worried that Bill was gonna go to. He's happy to see his big brother still sitting right there, grinning. 

He points to the TV, “Look, bubble guppies. Wanna watch bubble guppies?” Tom couldn't explain it but something about his brother is different. He felt a unknown surge flowing through him and the blonde didn't like it. He made Billy play with him and he stayed as close as he could. Until his Bill felt better, he wouldn't leave. 

Tom wishes he could speak like his family. He often felt angry when the words he wished to say didn't come out. He hated when his body fired up when he couldn't focus. Not being able to express that upset him too. It seemed that only Billie was able to understand. So that feeling he got from his older brother, the excessive activity coming from him, he had to find out why and get rid of it. 

The door opens and Jorg slams it, sending Tom scrambling into Bill's arms. Bill covers his ears gently humming through his palms. It calms the ringing. “Dad, Tom's right here.”

“I don't give a fuck about that kid. He's the reason I'm upset,” Jorg snarls, whiskey breath nearly hitting Bill in the face. Of course he was drunk, that's what happens when bad things happen at work. Recently….a lot of bad things had been happening. Simone pulls her husband from the door into the kitchen. The red haired mother pushes back her curls and tucks a few behind her ear. She leans on the counter, sighing before crossing her arms and turning her body to face him. What bothered her most besides the shape he walked in, was the mental preparation she had to put herself through. 

“What's wrong now, Jorg?” Simone sighs, hands coming up to her temples. Her eyes stare through him, not willing to work out her husband's flaws. 

“Those assholes wanna cut my hours! How the fuck am I supposed to pay for all the shit that little fucker needs, hmm?” 

“Could you lower your voice?” Simone counters “In case you didn't realize, that same child is literally less than 10 feet from you.” Angrily gesturing to the living room that was behind the kitchen wall that held the stove. The front door is literally a step away from living room couch, which sat against the wall closest to it. 

They were close enough to where everything said could and would be heard. Especially if shouted. 

“Like I give a fuck! If that little….!” They continue like that and Bill takes his little brother to his room in the back. Tom's fighting him, wanting to be free. However, Bill knew better. He'd lash out, knock things over and hurt himself. Billie couldn't stand how thoughtless his father was when he screamed about his drunken complaints. Once the door is closed, Bill turns to calmly deal with the little brother that was currently pulling every book from the shelf. 

Tom didn’t understand why but pulling the books one by one helped him slowly put together the puzzle of his mind. It explained the chaos that no one seemed to understand. However, Billy did. The teen bends down and slowly approaches the small boy. “Hey, are the words not making sense anymore?” Tom stops, looking at his brother through teary eyes. 

“It’s okay. I’m lost for words too. Wanna sit and read a book? Or we could use my laptop and watch Netflix? Whatever you want,” Bill proposes. “Don’t listen to monster. He’s mean and doesn’t understand Tomboy.” Slowly Tom walks over to his older brother, immediately feeling comforted by his touch. Bill gently stands and Tom happily bounds over to climb on his bed. 

Bill smiles at him briefly before walking over to his desk to grab his laptop. Picking it up, he turns to walk back to his bed when a something clicks in his head and he stops. Tom’s form on the bed blurred and he suddenly felt incredibly heavy. The worried little brother didn’t like the lost look in his eye.

Getting up from the bed, Bill tries to tell him to stay; all the words garbled and slurred. He couldn’t focus. Attempting a put a hand on his face, he ends up smacking himself a bit. His tiny baby brother couldn’t process his brother having trouble like him. Is this why he understood so well? What was happening? Before he can reach him, Bill falls back. 

In the front of the apartment, Simone snaps her head toward the back of her home. She could hear her son’s laptop slam and his long lanky body hitting the floor. He took his desk chair down with him, knocking several things off the desk when it shook. “What the hell?” She pushes past her drunk husband and rushes into the back room, flinging the door open, she’s shocked to see Bill’s tall form rigidly convulsing on the floor. Tom’s confused mind left him frozen in his spot. “Shit. Okay. Um, Tommy look at mama, come to mama. PB is okay. Just come to mama.”

He couldn’t think. Billy couldn’t tell him if it’s safe or not. Still, he trusted mama. Rushing to her arms, Little Tommy remained huddled behind her leg, afraid of his older brother but still curious to know what was wrong. “Uh, Jörg, I need for you to call 9-1-1, I don’t know why but Bill’s having a seizure or something!” She calls out into the hall. Jörg stumbles into back room, angry that Bill is on the floor like that. 

“You’ve got to be shitting me! Our one normal child is a fucking spaz too!” 

“Jörg, right now isn’t the time for one of your insensitive comments,” the tired mother seethes. “I need for you to call the ambulance because I cannot comfort Tom and help Bill and call 9-1-1 to notify dispatchers of our location.” Working as a nurse, she often saw this happen to many of her patients she worked with. 

One woman came in far too often but she couldn’t raise complaint with her superiors because they still got to line their pockets. Harlem Hospital was good for one thing: GSWs aka Gunshot wounds. Trauma was their number one thing. Anything small, some doctors were nice and others well, they could get a couple teeth kicked in and no one would be upset. Knowing they’d take her son there, she immediately calls one of the residents she knew to ask if they could let her work the case. 

It would make her life so much easier because she knows Bill would get the proper care. Her thoughts are briefly interrupted by the sound of her husband botching his own home address. “480 Jörg, where do you get 560 from 480?! They don’t even sound the same!”

“Would you shut up woman?! I’m trying to talk to the nice dispatcher here as you so kindly asked me to,” He drunkenly slurs. Simone wanted to rip the small phone from his hands but Bill was more important. His convulsions have died down but his body still shook, saliva bubbling at his mouth. 

The gasps leaving his mouth didn’t calm anyone’s nerves. Jörg may have numbed himself to his frustrations but he still felt something. Seeing his oldest boy, trapped by his own body and it then doing what it wanted, rocked him. The nearly middle aged father didn’t know how to say it but he appreciates everything that he did for his little brother. 

The missed school days; the biting; the illnesses; the meltdowns; the angry tantrums where Tom could throw a small toy clear across the room and manage to clock someone right on their dome piece, Bill had managed to help his baby brother through mostly, all of his challenges. What scares him the most is, Tom appears to wanna do the same. 

The tiny boy isn’t afraid anymore but instead holding his brother’s shaking hand as best he can and patting it like he always does. Simone couldn’t break his hold on him. Bill being Tom’s one tether to staying calm. After all, Billy understood when no one else did.


	2. 2

Simone limits Tom and her unfortunately drunk husband to the lobby. She follows the other nurses into the emergency room, terrified because he’s started seizing yet again. He’s never done this before and it shook his mother. She had him young. Dumb and 16. Then at the tender age of 24, just beginning her job as a nurse, hoping to climb the ladder one day, she had Tom. Her world soon turned upside down by his autism diagnosis at the age of three. He still wasn’t talking and had frequent tantrums. Clinging to his older brother mostly. 

Being separated from him in the lobby isn’t helping his mood. Jörg definitely didn’t get him and he knew that. Tom’s eyes never left the large red doors but he started to feel anxious. The young child wanted to know where is Bill. Where is his pretty brother? Turning to Jörg, he points to the door. “They gotta make him better first before we can see him. So sit down and stop being annoying.”

Tom didn’t understand why he had to sit and be quiet. All he wanted to know is where. Tell him a place. What is behind the door that he can’t see? Why did they take him back there to make him better? Why couldn’t they fix Bill like he somehow fixed Tom?

These thoughts spiraled his tiny little mind over and over again and he couldn’t say it. He didn’t know how to form those words. Frustratedly, he sits to the floor and starts pounding his fists on it. Banging the sides against it made some of the confusion go away. Jörg stares at him and groans. Getting up from his seat, he snatches the boy up onto his lap and starts bouncing the kid on his knee. 

Jörg knew Tom hated this but he is always too shaken to scream or squirm. It shut him up and it “calms” him down. “Stop being you, twerp,” Jörg whispers into his ear. “I’m not in the mood for your shit. If I have to say this again, I’m using the belt.”

Tom’s eyes widen and the reality of the situation settled in. Billie couldn’t explain him to someone. He wasn’t there. Immediately, Tom starts crying. He wants off his lap. The six year old wants to find his big brother. His annoyed father picks the child up despite his screams and takes him into the restroom. The leather belt is pulled free from his slacks and Tom’s senses were lit. His struggle to get away from him increased. He starts kicking and screaming even louder. 

The door is flung open and Simone snatches the young boy from her alcoholic husband’s arms. Holding him close, the red haired mother backs away from him. “I want you out of my house, find a way home, pack your shit and get out!” Carrying her son, Simone walks back into the emergency room and takes Tom to sit with the nice nurse that he liked. Hospitals never gave him a source of comfort. 

His condition also meant he was poked and prodded a lot. His mother tried to keep him out of hospitals but when he got sick, he had to go. This time he was here for his big brother. Nurse Milan smiles when she spots Simone but drops the happy face when she sees how distraught little Tommy is in her arms. He wouldn’t stop crying. His mom didn’t want to leave him with her soon to be ex husband but given the circumstances…. “Amalie, do you think you can calm him down? I have to go check on Bill.”

“Sure. Want me to bring this little cutie once he’s stable?” She chuckles, getting Tom’s attention with a stuffed rabbit. He liked the nurse’s voice. It’s soft and reminds him of Abby Cadabby on Sesame Street. He slowly climbs into Amalie’s arms, playing with the soft rabbit while she chatted with Simone. 

“He hasn’t had lunch yet, so he may be hungry,” the tired mother sighs. “He’ll tell you by rubbing his tummy.”

“I got him. Go make sure his brother is okay,” the sweet nurse smiles, sitting back down at her desk in the nurse’s station. Pediatric nurses are usually not doing much since the floor was usually barren until flu or cold season. The serious cases had specific nurses that were present. Amalie Milan ran the pediatric triage, her station never changed. Tommy used to give all the other nurses a hassle when he came in but Nurse Milan took care of that. 

She figured out a bit of his code and watched how he interacts with his brother. She knew he preferred to distract himself and learn from the world around him. The world that seemed so big to the six year old. So vast and open. Yet it scared the boy shitless to not see his mom or his brother. His favorite nurse provided some respite but didn’t calm his rapidly beating heart. The monster terrified Tom and he hated when Jorg would use his belt. 

Simone never understood her youngest’s fear of belts or public washrooms until she saw what unfolded in that restroom. Seeing her baby, screaming and trying his hardest to escape made her want to kill her good for nothing, soon to be ex. The redhead sighs relieved when spotting Bill’s eyes flicker. They open slowly, his body jolting up. “Ma? Wha?! Where’s Tom?!What happened?! Where am I?!”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” his mother coos. “You’re in Harlem Hospital, you had two seizures but you’re okay.”

“Seizures? Mom, what’s going on?”

“They are gonna run more tests but for right now,” the flustered mom starts. “They’re not ruling out epilepsy. The attacks were completely unprovoked.”

“C—can I see Tommy? He looked so scared before….” Billy trails off, he looks away from his mother and silent tears roll down his cheeks. What would this mean when it came to taking care of his brother? Unpredictable fits didn’t bode well when he had to be there for Tommy. How was he to even explain this to a baby brother that couldn’t handle most concepts? 

The raven haired older sibling didn’t want to distance himself. However, this seemed like the best option. The teen gets lost in his thoughts, trying to figure out when or how he’d explain any of this to his friends. They’d never understand him. They’d all just reject him. No one likes a kid with random seizures. No one. The door lock pulls him out of his head and he forces a smile when he meets Tom’s wide gaze. “Hey there Tommyboy, were you worried about me?”

“Picture for PB?” Tom mutters, handing him the colored sheet.

“You made this for me? Oh thank you, can I get a hug?” The small boy eagerly climbs into the bed and snuggles into his Bill’s arms. “I love you so much, Tommy.” The older teen kisses his little brother’s forehead and holds him close. Tommy could feel the extra activity leave his brother’s body, making Bill feel like his pretty brother again. 

Simone noticed that Tom’s worry for his brother seemed to disperse upon seeing him. He wasn’t demanding to stay close to his brother. Something about Bill is different and the doting mother could see that Tom felt the same way.


	3. 3

I don’t think Bill was ready for the tantrum that his baby brother threw when they got home from the hospital. His older brother wanted to lie down and rest but Tommy wanted to snuggle. Simone went to take Tom to his room for bed when he started screaming. 

Tom wanted PB because the monster would be with mama and he didn’t want to be with the monster. The six year old kicks his little legs, cries and tries to get away from her. Finally, tired of his wailing, Billy emerged from his room and plucked the child out of her arms. “I got him, mom. Don’t worry.”

“You need rest, sweetheart,” his mother exhales. “The neurologist said to get at least 8 hours tonight.”

“I know but, I don’t like hearing him cry and he doesn’t cry when he’s with me,” the tired teen smiles sadly. 

“I know baby,” Simone sighs, wiping her brow. “How about, just for tonight, I’ll take him to my room for bed tonight? You can join us.”

“What about dad?” Bill asks, hoisting his baby brother onto his hip. “Isn’t he coming home?” With a sad smile, Simone kisses her oldest son’s forehead and leads her boys into the bedroom. Bill strips his skinny jeans for flannel pajama pants, while Tommy opted to stay in his underoos and socks. 

He immediately cuddles under his brother’s arm once they’re in the bed. Bill chuckles softly and kisses his brother’s head. The red haired mother tries to smile at her boys peacefully sleeping in the bed but her heart felt heavy. Her sons would need her now more than ever. 

****

Sitting in visual art, the older teen feels sick. His stomach keeps turning and flipping about every time he takes a breath. Georg isn’t coming in today because he had to help with the Senior Sharing. Not like the brunette was a senior, just had this ridiculous crush on the student body president, who just so happened to be. “Billie, are you alright?” Ms. Salas asks. “You haven’t moved your brush since you started.”

“Yeah. Just a little nauseous,” the teen smiles weakly. “I’m gonna go get some water.” Putting down the paint covered utensil, Bill rises from the raised stool and walks towards one of the doors that lead to the hall when he stops. He hopes to hold back the bile that’s rushing to his throat but something else stopped him. 

The teen simply cannot move, the confusion washing over him. Fourteen pairs of eyes right on him as a strange command circulated through his body. Bill’s concerned art teacher walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?” All the staff had been informed of the situation and were trained in case Bill needed first aid. Panic quickly surges through the older woman when he doesn’t respond to her. 

“Okay, um, let’s sit you down,” Ms. Salas coos. Gently taking his arm, she goes to walk him to a chair but his towering form instead comes tumbling into her body. Holding him up as he jerks slightly in her arms, Salas looks at the other students and beckons them into the hall. He didn’t want anyone to see his body lose all control. Haymee knew this. Bill hasn’t lost his footing and she’s holding him up as small jerks and tremors surge through him. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, just breathe for me,” the small Latina woman coos. “You’re gonna be okay.” Hearing something splash on the floor, Haymee looks down and sees that his dark pants are wet around the crotch area and down his trembling legs. When it’s over, Bill is sobbing in her shoulder. 

“Tha—-tha—-,” He stammers. The teen can’t make the words as his brain still hasn’t come round full circle yet. 

“Shh. Just stay calm,” she whispers. “Your mom told us about what happens. There’s an extra set of clothes in the locker….a couple towels. I uh, I tried to match your style, kiddo.” She really looked out for the boy. Knowing how his father was, (not forgetting his wonderful performance at parent teacher night a year ago), and his mother’s busy schedule, Haymee Salas made sure that someone cares about him too. 

“Home,” Bill somehow moans out clearly through his sobs. Words are starting to make sense for him again. Once he’s able to see straight, Bill gains his equilibrium and focus by looking into his art teacher’s eyes. 

The school principal, Alison Warren, is alarmed to see all those students in the hallway. Walking over she steps into the classroom, immediately angered by the scene. “What’s going on here?” Her shrill voice cutting through Bill’s currently sensitive ears. 

“He had one of his seizures,” Ms. Salas explains. “I stopped him from hitting the floor.”

“You’re not supposed to hold him,” the tall, awkward woman directs walking over. “You’re supposed to put the kid on his side.”

“It wasn’t a grand mal. He didn’t convulse, just trembled and jerked,” the teaching artist describes. “If I didn’t hold him up, he would’ve hur….”

Time slows down, Bill looks blankly at the principal, it’s the same feeling from that first night. Damn! Not again! It starts in his shoulders, they jolt back into his teacher’s torso. His eyes focus upward and his entire form stiffens in her grasp. “Fuck! Put him down!” Carefully, they somehow lower him to the ground. Getting Bill to his side, Warren goes outside to the students. “If you all, could quietly and without saying a single thing and I mean a single thing, gather your belongings and go to the library.” The pupils all look at each other and shrug their shoulders. However none of them are prepared for what they see in the classroom. The teenager is convulsing violently on the floor. His limbs all jerk and shook as if he were being electrocuted, drool included. It is a difficult task but the other teens manage to grab their bags and coats, exiting silently. 

Their minds scrambling for a reason as to why that could’ve been happening. Bill’s body bounced slightly up off the floor and he sorta gasped, his gaze focused nowhere. None of them would forget how lost he looked, almost miles away while his body did as it wanted. His hair stuck to his forehead in weird places and shook as his body did. The seizure seemed to have literally taken over every single nerve in his body. 

“Come on, you can do it, wake up,” Haymee cooed. “Alison, call EMS, it’s been more than 5 minutes.”

“And you call his mother,” the curly haired principal retorts. 

****

Billy’s eyes part slowly as someone snaps their gloves fingers in his face. First they move in a time different than his and he feels as if he’s moving slower. Then he catches up and his eyes widen with fear. He backs away against the stretcher nearly knocking it over. “Hey, hey, it’s alright, calm down, do you know where you are?”

“What’s going on?! Why are you here?!” His voice is raspy and almost shallow. 

“Just relax, you’re in a FDNY ambulance en route to the nearest hospital,” the tall, medium build EMS explains. Yoni has only been on the squad for seven months and this was his first big call. Billy had still been seizing when he arrived. Only stopping when they got oxygen on him. He hadn’t meant to frighten the teenager. 

“I want my mommy,” Bill whimpers behind the mask. 

“Don’t worry, she’s gonna meet us at the hospital. Just focus on breathing for me, okay?” 

“I’m scared,” Billy damn near squeaks. He is instantly reminded of the first couple weeks in the hospital. They had to run an EEG test and he had woken up so dazed and confused that during one instance he had forgotten his own name for a moment. 

These attacks petrified him and he didn’t know what they meant for his future. The tears roll down his face, his seizure making him incredibly emotional. “Don’t worry, it’s gonna be okay.” Yoni’s gloved hand is warm when it touches Bill’s exposed pale arm. The young tech smiles at him, happy to have been able to calm the panicking teen down. If only for a little while. 

They finally reach a hospital and he’s overjoyed to see Simone jumping out of her car and running to catch up to the EMS. “Wait! Hold on! That’s my kid!” Finally reaching them, Simone jogs alongside the men into the emergency center. “What happened?”

“Prolonged tonic clonic convulsions, low BP, high blood sugar, and his temp was through the roof,” Yoni details. “Even has an increased heart rate but that’s to be expected with a seizure event.”

“Okay, thank you,” Simone nods, managing to follow the nurses into the back, once they’ve changed the bed. Taking Bill’s hand, she takes the IV from the intern and inserts it herself. 

“Ma’am, you can’t—.”

“I’m a nurse and he’s my son, I know how to insert an IV,” she scoffs. “Especially into his veins.” Simone knows she can lose her job for doing this but the doting mother didn’t want her son being poked and prodded by strangers when he is clearly still distraught from the earlier incident. 

“It’s okay, honey. Mommy’s right here and you’re gonna be okay.”

“I wanna go home,” the upset teen whimpers. 

“I know, I know you do. But how about we make sure you’re okay first,” Simone coos, brushing his hair back. 

“Where’s Tommy?” Bill croaks, slowly giving in to the drugs that lull people to sleep. 

“With grandma,” his mom answers. “Don’t worry about that right now. Just get some rest until the doctor comes to check on you.” 

His eyes flutter closed, sleep taking over. Simone steps out of the area, cupping a hand over her mouth as sobs vibrate her throat. Why does this keep happening? He couldn't even go to school without an event! Bill took all his medications and it didn't stop it! It didn't save her baby the humiliation of having a seizure in school. 

The curtain slowly draws back, a brand new resident, Dr. Tobias Ruiz, slips in. Holding the teen's chart, a soft smile graces his lips. “Hi, is it alright for me to come by?”

“Oh I'm sorry,” Simone chuckles, wiping away her tears. “I’m his mother, he just fell asleep.”

“That's fine,” he hums softly. “Dr. Ruiz. Uh, I read his chart but could you give me a clearer picture as to what happened?”

“Well, his teacher told me that he continued to seize after 5 minutes, the nurses were told that he seized for 8 minutes total,” Simone retales. “He's only done that once and that was his first grand mal.”

“Okay. It says here they prescribed levetiracetam 1000mg, once during the day and once at night,” the words are read off the page and at this moment the rails on the bed rattle behind the already anxious mother. Tobias quickly moves her out of the way, handing Simone the chart. Quickly, he flips Bill on his side. 

“Mom, come over and talk to him,” the doctor directs. “He needs your help through this.” Walking over, Simone merely rubs his arm like she usually does. This behavior started when Bill had fallen back in the foyer when he arrived home from school. He had been fine for a few days. The occasional absence from time to time. Those just started. Or they've been happening. 

Simone noticed it, but wasn't around enough to see how frequent or how they changed. Tom saw it. He always saw it. Bill always spoke to him. When he would stop mid sentence to stare off to the right to blink and sigh; when he would stop eating mid chew and freeze over his plate, fork still in his grasp. 

He didn't know how to tell his mama that it was happening. So he just wanted to stay close. Simone did however notice that. The teen's body slows down, his fatigued limbs jerking ever so slightly. Like tiny little electric shocks. It is always the yelps and gulps that came when he started breathing again that made his saddened mother come to tears. The sound made her feel as if he were in pain. 

This disorder frightened her and she knew that she had to protect him. Both of her boys. Working on her job, she's seen it a million times. Yet….it's different when it's your child. Once Bill is still, the new resident at Bronx Lebanon looks up at the red haired mother. “We'll admit him and see what's going on,” the dark haired Dominican sighs. “I'll go request a bed.” 

Simone couldn't help but watch him walk out of the cubicle. This doctor is different.


End file.
